The Boy Who Never Lived
by Brass Tacked
Summary: A wish gone awry sends Harry and Draco into a world where Harry was never born and Voldemort has never been challenged. post HBP AU Draco/Harry


Disclaimer: Not mine, I wish

_The Boy Who Never Lived_

Chapter 1

"Come on Hermione, pass the orb already. You've had plenty of time to make your wish." Ron's voice carried a bit of a whine in it as he bounced on his knees. Everyone in the room could feel his impatience to get his turn.

"Shut up Ronald, I can hold the orb for as long as I like. The rules state that a person is allowed to hold it for any length of time they choose too, it's very important that the wish is well thought out."

"But you've been holding it for twenty minutes already, soon no ones going to be left and then where will we be."

"Fine, if you want the thing so much, here." Her tone was filled with annoyance as she passed the large orb into Ron's eager hands.

Ron barely held it for a minute before he moved to pass it on. Suddenly there was a large pop and vast amounts of sweets began to pour over his head. A matching torrent spilled over Seamus Finnegan, who had held the orb three turns back. Almost everyone in the group began to whoop with joy, wishes were hardly ever fulfilled. The only one's not cheering were Hermione and Malfoy. She just huffed in displeasure and Draco continued to look sullen.

Although Harry gave one good shout and patted his friend on the back while grabbing a chocolate frog from the pile, his eyes never left their covert perusal of the blonde elegantly sprawled across from him. It was not until Ron unceremoniously dumped the orb onto his lap that Harry became completely distracted. He had already figured out what he was going to wish for, it had been shown to him years ago in a mirror. He did not make the wish instantly though, instead he studied the orb.

It was liquid silver encased in glass. The fluid moved and glittered in the light of the nearby candles, turning from pewter to sterling and every shade between. Occasionally streaks of light would flash through it creating a miniature lightning storm. Harry marveled at the power he held in his hands. The silvery substance lightened drastically and became translucent enough that Harry caught a distorted view of Malfoy.

It had not been long ago when the blonde had shown up at the door of Grimwald Place with Snape. Their appearance had caused quite an uproar and several hexes to be cast. A particularly nasty one had hit Draco and that was when Snape cast a spell that caused everyone in the room to freeze in place. Harry wished the older man had chosen to cast the spell verbally; it could have come in handy whenever the Weasley Twins were around.

It had been one of the most terrifying moments in Harry's life. The person who had conspired for an entire year to kill Dumbledore and the man who had succeeded in doing so were holding almost every member of the Order of the Phoenix hostage, what could be worst then that? Harry had expected Voldemort to arrive any moment. Instead Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a vial of familiar looking liquid.

His customary sneer was in place when he spoke, "Potter come with me, I have something to show you."

He then stalked towards the library, black robes billowing behind him. It was not until he was almost through the doorway that he waived his wand releasing only Harry from the immobilizing spell. Harry did not follow. His eyes narrowed in on Draco. The blonde was not frozen by the curse, but he was doing a fair imitation of everyone else in the room. He was in a corner and Harry could tell he was attempting to shake himself out of the grips of the stupefying spell that had hit him while not being too obvious. His eyes were weary and his wand gripped tightly in a sweaty hand. Though he was tensed, preparing himself for an attack, he did not raise the wand.

Harry felt one of his eyebrows raise with incredulity. Why was Draco just standing there? How was Snape able to give the blonde the address without being the secret keeper? And perhaps even more importantly why did Snape not kill everyone while he had the chance, why did he want Harry to follow him while holding a memory ready to be added to a pensive?

"Come along Potter, I don't have all day!" Snape's impatience was clear in his voice, even with a door separating them.

"If he was going to kill you he would have by now." The voice was the same lazy drawl that it had always been and drew Harry's gaze back to Malfoy. The blond boy was still in the corner, but now he was leaning against a side table his body seeming to radiate ease. The only clues that he was dissembling were his shifting eyes and the tight hold he had on his wand.

Harry did not like the idea of leaving the blond alone, but he feared what Snape might be up to even more. With a warning glance towards Malfoy, he readjusted his hold on his wand and walked into the next room.

Snape was standing behind a small round table, on the top of which was a stone bowl filled with silvery memories. His arms were crossed and his face as unreadable as ever. Even his scowl was put away. The potion's master appeared to be waiting, for what Harry had no idea.

They both stood staring at each other as seconds ticked by, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Harry knew that one miss step on either of their parts and one of them would end up dead. His nerves were stretched to their breaking point though and he had never been known not to jump headlong into trouble. Thinking situations through thoroughly had always been Hermione's strong point, not his.

"Well what is it Snape, or should I say deatheater? Why should I not kill you right now, what is it that you want me to see?"

"Your insolence astounds me Potter. I could kill you and all of your friends this very instant and yet you attempt to provoke me with petty words?" The sneer was back in place, but no wand was produced. Instead Snape just pulled out the same bottle that Harry had seen earlier and emptied its contents into the large bowl. "Come here and actually have permission to view the pensive's contents for once. I might even get you to regret your words for once."

Harry took careful steps forward until his was directly across the table from Snape, never taking his eyes off of the cold black ones across from him. Gesturing towards the bowl he said, "You first, I'll follow."

"Very well." With that the older man swept down and allowed himself to be pulled into the past. With a gulp of air and one last look around, Harry followed.

When he was finally released from the memory Harry was pale and shaky. He could not bring himself to meet the ex-professor's eyes, indeed regretting the words from earlier.

He could hardly believe what he had seen. It had been Dumbledore's memory and although Snape may have been able to change it, Harry doubted that he had. The lone tear so uncharacteristically sliding down the man's pale cheek confirmed Harry's belief that the memory was still whole.

Dumbledore had forced Snape to kill him. The potion's master had confessed to the unbreakable vow and Dumbledore told him to follow through with it. In fact he had ordered Snape to insure that there was no way for Draco to succeed in his assignment so that Snape's hand would be the one forced to kill. When Snape had protested Dumbledore had cut him off, reminding him of the other vow.

"What other vow was he talking about?" Harry could not stop himself from asking. He knew this was the only chance to get the answers he so desperately sought.

"It was the unbreakable vow that he had me enter when I became a spy for the Order. The one that forced me to follow his every command whether I wanted to or not. The one that effectively made me his slave even if he did not think of it that way." _The one that made me kill him._ The words went unspoken, but not unheard.

"What about Draco? How do you know we can trust him?"

Snape's eyebrow rose when Harry said we, but then he sighed and paced to the lone window in the desolate room. He appeared to be staring outside, but Harry knew that was not the case. The window was covered in grime and Snape was staling for time as he gathered his thoughts. The quiet stretched between them once again, but this time the tension was gone. Finally Snape turned to face Harry, his body encased in the shadows. "Draco, in a way, is indebted to me now, possibly even bound by magic. I saved his life in more than one way that night creating a life debt, much like the one you share with Pettigrew. That in it self would not insure his loyalty, but Dumbledore's words that night hit Draco hard. Coupled with that he found out within hours that I am loyal to the Order and have in fact survived for years after turning away from Voldemort. It took days for him to recover from the shock, then another week of uninterrupted thinking to come to a decision. His main concern is his mother. I told him we would do our best to ensure her safety and I plan to bring her here, if you'll allow it."

Harry was in shock. He did not think that Snape was capable of such a long speech, at least not one without a single insult or mention of a potion. Not only that, but he had asked for Harry permission to do something, his permission!

"Close your mouth, your current impression of a fly trap is ruining your image as a boy wonder." Old Snape was back, but his bite seemed to have lessened some. "This is your house, I would not presume to move someone in without permission no matter how much I might despise asking."

"Well, I do have a saving people thing so it only makes sense that I would agree. You should go release everyone from whatever spell you cast and then we can go track down Malfoy's mum."

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AN: This is a story idea that I have been bouncing around for quite a while. For now this is just a tester chapter, please let me know what you think so I can decide whether or not to continue writing 


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